


Ten Points to Gryffindor

by publishingprince



Series: First Time's the Charm [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bisexual Ginny Weasley, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Canon Timeline, Community: hermione_smut, F/F, First Lesbian Experience, First Time, Held Down, Lesbian Ginny Weasley, Lesbian Sex, My First AO3 Post, My First Fanfic, My First Smut, My First Work in This Fandom, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Pansexual Ginny Weasley, for my girlfriend, wlw sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:01:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21877075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/publishingprince/pseuds/publishingprince
Summary: Hermione and Ginny find themselves alone in the Gryffindor common room.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ginny Weasley
Series: First Time's the Charm [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1632232
Comments: 9
Kudos: 144





	Ten Points to Gryffindor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maddy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maddy/gifts).



Part I

“ _ Don’t _ push me, please, Dean,” Ginny said, sounding annoyed. “You’re always doing  that, I can get through perfectly well on my own…”

Dean made an angry retort as he and Ginny clambered through the portrait hole. Across the common room, at the base of the stairs to the boy’s dormitory, Hermione was still stunned from Harry’s quick and jubilant Felix  Felicis-fuelled exit. She stared at the place he had vanished, absent-mindedly watching Ginny and Dean begin to fight in earnest. Behind her, she could hear Ron’s fearful protests to Lavender that he hadn’t just been up in the tower with Hermione.

Why had Harry decided to go to Hagrid’s, and not Slughorn’s office? Hermione grasped her book to her chest as if it was the last thing on earth. In fact, just at that moment, she wished it was. 

“Oh, knock it off, both of you,” she said, whirling suddenly on a ruddy-faced Ron and an overwrought Lavender. “You know I haven’t the faintest interest in Ron. Do you think I’d be top of our grade if I was mooning at boys all day?”

With an ungrateful look back at her, Ron stomped up the stairs to the boys’ dormitory. “’M going to bed,” he muttered. Lavender turned  sniffily on her heel as well. Dean, clearly in a similar mood, pushed past Hermione a moment later and followed Ron upstairs. Silence fell in the common room.

With a practiced wave of her wand, Hermione put out the candles in their brackets, dimming the light so that the fire was the brightest thing left in the room. She was used to being here alone late at night, after the library closed. With a sigh, she settled onto one of the plush red and gold couches and stared into the flames.

“Lot on your mind, huh?”

_ “Stupefy!” _ The spell was out of Hermione’s mouth almost before she knew what she was doing; she leapt up and onto the couch, sweeping her wand towards the unexpected voice. A whoop, a flash of orange; her spell had been parried. She raised her wand – then lowered it again and dropped her head in her hands, embarrassed. Ginny was leaning over the back of the opposite couch, wand out, laughing.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry I scared you,” she said, jumping over the back of the couch and dropping onto the cushion beside Hermione. Sometimes her movements reminded Hermione of Fred and George’s lanky assuredness. She blew out the breath she’d been holding and sat back down too.

“That’s alright. I wasn’t paying attention – I thought I was the only one left in here. Stop  _ laughing _ ,” she added, bumping Ginny lightly with her shoulder. Ginny bumped shoulders back.

Hermione felt embarrassed, and not only from her overly quick spellcasting. Though she and Ginny had spent a lot of time together in the last few years – ever since they had rescued Ginny from the basilisk – it was always in a group, or with some pressing goal in mind, even if it was just a load of laundry Mrs. Weasley had tasked them with folding at the Burrow. Now, with nothing to do but wait for Harry to come back with or without the memory – Hermione felt different, at a loss. She found herself watching Ginny’s long fingers, resting on her jeans in the firelight.

“What are you looking at?”

Ginny’s voice was teasing, and again, Hermione was reminded of the twins. She had had a crush on George for a few short weeks, back in third year – but she hadn’t thought of that in years. “Nothing!” she said quickly, reddening. She was glad the only light was from the flickering fireplace.

“Want to play a game?” Ginny asked. “No magic.” She turned to face Hermione on the couch and held out both hands, palms upwards. Hermione, who had become lost in thoughts rather different than her earlier preoccupations, looked at her, confused. “A Muggle kid taught it to me,” Ginny said. “Put your hands over mine.”

“I was a Muggle kid myself, you know, once upon a time,” Hermione said dryly. “I know schoolyard games.” She sounded harsher than she meant to, and placed her  hands on Ginny’s to show she didn’t mean it. Ginny’s hands were callused from daily quidditch practice, like the boys’, but her fingertips were smooth and cool. They rested lightly on Hermione’s wrist. She shivered despite the fire.

_ Slap. _ “Got you!” Ginny crowed. She had whipped her hands out from under Hermione’s and slapped the back of her hands, all before she could even flinch. Hermione, hands pulled back far too late, frowned. Her right hand inched towards her pocket.

“Not so quick when it isn’t  wandwork , are you,” Ginny said, reading Hermione’s mind as if by  legilimency . She reached forward and grabbed Hermione’s hands, putting them into position again. Hermione let her, feeling annoyed. She focused as hard as she could, but found herself getting distracted by Ginny’s fingers, which quivered where they rested under her palms.

_ Slap _ . This time, as soon as she lost, Hermione’s wand hand darted for her pocket, a minor jinx already in mind – but she was no match for Ginny’s quidditch reflexes, especially in Hermione's daydreaming state. The younger girl grabbed Hermione’s right wrist and pushed it back against the couch. A brief tussle ensued – Hermione, all duel training forgotten, shrieked and tried to scrabble for a ticklish spot she knew was on Ginny’s ribs; Ginny grabbed for her other wrist to hold her back. They ended up still sitting, but with Ginny half straddling Hermione, somehow pinning both her wrists against the couch above her head. They both stopped, panting heavily.

“Get off me, you little imp,” said Hermione with as much dignity as she could muster. She tugged at her hands, but Ginny had them firmly clasped above her head, and her wand was probably between the couch cushions by now. It felt strangely freeing.

“We studied imps in  Defence just last week,” Ginny said slowly and deliberately, lowering her face towards Hermione’s until a curtain of red hair surrounded them both. “Snape might not be good for much, but I’m pretty sure I know what they look like.” Her eyes were locked on Hermione’s and she had a mischievous grin. “And I’m not it.”

Hermione’s mouth felt dry. She licked her lips, suddenly aware of the crackling of the fire. Seconds seemed to stretch. Neither girl moved. Ginny seemed to have almost forgotten she was holding Hermione down. Hermione felt a sudden, desperate need to say something funny, something normal.

“You’re…you’re right, you certainly don’t,” she said weakly. Ginny’s hair was brushing her temples. Hermione knew they used the same soap, but it smelled different on Ginny than on her. She felt her heart was beating very fast.

Still encircling Hermione’s wrists in a firm grip, Ginny very slowly shifted until she was completely straddling Hermione’s leg. She eased her towards the back of the couch until, in order to keep holding on to Hermione, the length of their bodies almost had to be touching. Hermione, acting on pure instinct, found herself arching her back to try to bring them closer. Ginny dipped her head past Hermione and breathed into her ear. Hermione let out an involuntary gasp.

“Do you want to play a different game?”

Part II

Hermione felt as if her breathing had stopped altogether. Ginny’s leg was between hers, and Hermione felt her body respond to even the slightest pressure there. She wanted to thrust her hips forward, arch her back, even bite the delicate freckled ear that now almost brushed her lips. Instead she held herself very still, wrists still locked in Ginny’s strong grip.

“What…kind of  game ?”

This was all so sudden, so unfamiliar, so unlike anything Hermione had ever experienced before. She half expected herself to wake up in a daze to find the common room fire had burned low and she’d fallen asleep on her books again. But  Ginny’s breathy whisper in her ear was terrifyingly, tantalizingly real.

“I was thinking you could show me how you win us all those house points in class every day.”

Hermione pulled back, confused, trying to see the other girl’s expression. She was met by a sly grin. “What I mean is -” Ginny moved her leg more firmly between Hermione’s - “I’ve heard -” holding Hermione’s wrists in one hand, she brought her other down to cup Hermione’s cheek - “you’re very eager to please.”

Hermione couldn’t help herself. She let out a small moan. As soon as her mouth opened, Ginny brushed her thumb along Hermione’s chin and let it rest, gently but firmly, on Hermione’s parted lips. She tightened her other hand’s grip as she bent down again, arched so her face was almost level with Hermione’s. Hermione could smell sweet soap and freshly mown grass as Ginny said, “Is that true?”

Hermione nodded imperceptibly.

“Show me.”

Hermione slowly widened her mouth. As she had somehow known she would do, Ginny slid her thumb in. At the same time, she slid her leg tight between Hermione's legs. Hermione felt the pressure on her pubic bone and moaned again, louder this time. She was now fully pinned against the couch. Following her body’s desires, she bit lightly down on Ginny’s thumb. Ginny pressed harder – with her thumb, her knee, her hands. Hermione gave in to what she had wanted to do before – she arched herself, trying to make contact with Ginny’s body at every possible point.

Ginny obliged her. She increased the pressure of her leg against Hermione’s sex, and Hermione pushed back, grinding on Ginny. She could feel her own underwear slide against her, wet inside her dress pants as she pressed herself desperately against Ginny’s leg. Her breath was coming in quick gasps, and her eyes were almost closed. Ginny dragged her thumb out of Hermione’s mouth and streaked it across the older girl’s cheek, bring her hand to rest behind Hermione’s head. Hermione arched even more, gazing up at Ginny.

Ginny gazed back, smirking. “Very good, Granger,” she said, in a passable imitation of a professor observing a particularly well-executed spell. Hermione let out a shaky laugh. She couldn’t believe what was happening. Suddenly remembering where they were, she glanced around. She hoped none of the other students fancied a midnight stroll down to the common room.

Then Ginny's right hand, the one not holding her immobile, cupped the back of her head, grasped a fistful of Hermione’s curly hair, and guided her gaze back to the girl straddling her. Hermione did not struggle – she let herself be guided. Ginny bent so that their lips were almost brushing.

“Now let's see how well you do in with your next assignment.”

Hermione's whole body was tingling as if engulfed in one of her  trademark conjured blue flames. Usually, when she found herself in a new situation, she had studied and planned for it ahead of time. This defied all logic. She tried to rationalize, but Ginny’s leg pressed ever more insistently against her and made thinking impossible. Before she could lose her nerve, Hermione did the only thing that made sense  –  she bucked forward and pressed her lips against Ginny’s. 

Hermione’s body erupted as if she had downed an entire bottle of  firewhiskey . Ginny’s lips felt warm and alive, and after the barest space of a breath, she began kissing Hermione back, fiercely. For the first time since their little play fight that had started it all, Hermione writhed against her restraint, but Ginny only held her tighter, pressing Hermione into the couch with the force of her kiss. She slipped her tongue in Hermione’s mouth and Hermione responded in kind, losing herself to the flooding tingle of pleasure that flowed through her body.

“ Mmf ...” muted moans escaped Hermione’s mouth as she moved her body rhythmically against Ginny’s. Ginny ducked her head to maintain contact with Hermione’s mouth as Hermione writhed beneath her. Hermione had just given up struggling to free her wrists when she felt Ginny’s grip relax. The next thing she knew, she felt those cool fingers under her uniform sweater, ever so gently travelling up her sides. She broke free of Ginny’s kiss with a gasp, flinging her head back on the red and gold couch and gazing unseeingly up at the ceiling. Ginny did not hesitate. With a quick tug, she grasped Hermione’s sweater and pulled it off her head.

Hermione whipped her head back down, suddenly self-conscious. Knowing her robes would cover her in class, she often didn’t bother to wear anything under her Hogwarts sweater, and now her breasts were on full display, her nipples erect and naked in the firelight. After the furious activity of a moment before, Hermione felt as if the entire common room was frozen in time. She looked up to see Ginny looking down at her, seemingly in awe. Then, with one arm, Ginny stripped off her own quidditch jersey, revealing a strappy black sports bra. She reached down and guided Hermione’s hand up to rest on one of Ginny's small breasts. Hermione could feel the hard bump of Ginny’s nipple through the thin cloth of the bra. She shuddered, goosebumps rippling across her own exposed skin.

Still not taking her eyes off Hermione, Ginny said, “Show me what a good student you are.”

Part III

Hermione felt a surge of tingling warmth where she was pressed against Ginny’s leg. She gently ran her hand across Ginny’s chest, then lifted her other hand and, with a shaky breath, slipped it underneath Ginny’s bra. She was greeted by the cool, smooth curve of Ginny’s breast, forming a point where the nipple seemed to wait for her touch. Still holding up the material of the bra with her wrist, Hermione ran her fingers lightly over Ginny's nipple, the way she sometimes touched herself when there was no one else in the girls’ dormitory. Ginny responded immediately – bracing herself with her arms behind her on the couch cushion, she arched her chest forward, eyes closed. Hermione watched, mesmerized, as Ginny bit her own lip - lips Hermione had so recently experienced pressed against hers.

Ginny’s eyes flew open and she caught Hermione staring at her. “Take it off,” Ginny instructed her hoarsely, and as if in a trance, Hermione did as she was told, fumbling a little as she pulled the strappy black sports bra over Ginny’s red hair. Ginny’s breasts were small, much smaller than Hermione’s, and looked taught and firm, dappled with firelight and a smattering of freckles to match those across her shoulders and arms. Hermione hesitated, overwhelmed, the bra dangling limply in her hand. Ginny, however, had no such hesitation. She grabbed the bra roughly from Hermione's grasp and flung it over the couch and into the shadows of the common room. She leaned back down, planting her hands on either side of Hermione, and her breasts hung down ever so slightly, making contact with Hermione’s own bare chest.

Hermione’s breath caught. Her nipples instantly became even harder than before, meeting Ginny’s own as they brushed against each other. Ginny kissed her, long and deep this time, and pressed her naked torso against Hermione. The round of Hermione’s breasts pressed into Ginny’s muscular body and Ginny broke the kiss and began moving her lips along Hermione’s jaw and down her neck, kissing and licking as she went. Hermione moved willingly to allow Ginny to reach her collarbone, and was rewarded for her compliance with a gentle bite. Hermione moaned, hands clutching the fabric of the couch on either side of her.

She felt Ginny shifting slightly, but she was still being straddled, was still able to push her tingling clit against Ginny’s leg. She felt Ginny soft fingers brush one of her clenched hands, then unclench her fingers and pick her hand up. Powerless to stop her, willing to do whatever Ginny wanted, Hermione allowed herself to be guided.

But her eyes flew open when she felt her obliging hand being placed at Ginny’s waistband. She saw that Ginny, now running her tongue lightly along Hermione’s collarbone, had undone her own jeans and had gently guided Hermione’s right hand to rest at their opening. Hermione felt a thrill of pleasure and fear travel from the top of her head all the way down to her feet. She didn’t know what to do next. All those years in the Restricted Section, and she’d never come across instructions for how to do this!

Then Ginny breathed in her ear. “You've been such a good student so far,” she said. “Scared?”

Hermione knew she was being taunted into submission, but she also didn’t care. She turned her head, boldly, and kissed Ginny on the lips again, gathering her courage. Then, bending her wrist to accommodate the angle, she forced her hand inside Ginny’s faded jeans.

Instantly she could tell Ginny was as wet as she was. Hermione’s hand was outside of Ginny’s underwear, but the soft fabric was soaked through. As soon as Ginny felt Hermione’s fingers brush her, she gyrated her hips, pushing herself into Hermione’s hand. Hermione didn’t have to do anything; Ginny’s underwear, soaked and skimpy to begin with, were slid aside and Hermione’s fingers met the warmth and delicious wetness of Ginny’s folds. Both girls gasped.

“Oh, fuck,” Ginny said. She was still sitting upright, and she pressed her leg into Hermione even harder in response, one hand grasping Hermione’s breast, the other hand reaching up to entangle in her own pin-straight red hair. And then - 

“Oh FUCK,” Ginny said, this time for a very different reason. A second later, Hermione, lost as she was in the ecstasy of how good Ginny felt, heard it too – a shuffled footstep on the stairs. Both girls froze momentarily in an incriminating tableau. Then Ginny flew off of Hermione with a speed rivalled only by her own talents on the quidditch pitch. Snatching Hermione’s sweater off the ground, she flung it in the other girl’s face while tugging her jersey over her head and somehow doing up her pants at the same time. Numb with shock, her hand still wet from Ginny, Hermione pulled her school sweater over her head just as Ron shuffled into view, rubbing his eyes and still looking as grumpy as when he had disappeared upstairs – minutes? Hours? ago.

“Wassamatter?” he said, stopping and taking in Hermione’s wide eyes and trembling hands. Fine time for Ron to start noticing other people’s emotions, Hermione thought distractedly, tugging at the neck of her school sweater, which she belatedly realized she had put on backwards.

“Nothing,” she said, craning her neck and trying to see where Ginny had disappeared to. “Just -  er – waiting for Harry to come back. He said he was going to Hagrid’s first, not Slughorn’s office – I can’t figure out why.”

Just then a fully clothed, perfectly calm looking Ginny sauntered into view from a shadowy corner of the common room, yawning. She lifted her chin to a seemingly unsurprised Ron, who squinted blearily at her in return - “Oh, h’lo” - as he launched into a rambling response to Hermione’s question. It was a good thing all Ron’s ideas were things Hermione had already considered and rejected, because she found herself completely unable to concentrate on him. She followed Ginny with her eyes as the youngest Weasley crossed the common room to the stairs. She desperately wanted Ginny to look at her.

“ - anyway, that’s what I think. How about you,” said Ron, dropping heavily onto the couch beside Hermione and poking idly at something on the ground with a  slippered foot. Hermione ignored him completely, staring after Ginny. At the last moment, before mounting the stairs to the dormitories, Ginny turned.

“Oh - Hermione,” she called. “About what we were saying before.” Ginny’s face was half hidden in shadow, but Hermione could see a mischievous glint in her eye. She felt her body flush, in one place in particular.

“Y-yes?” she said, wishing her voice sounded less shaky. She still felt out of breath.

Ginny grinned. “Ten points to Gryffindor,” she said, then turned and disappeared upstairs.

Hermione felt a blush spread from the roots of her hair all the way down to the abnormally high neckline of her backwards school sweater. Beside her, Ron held something up. “What’s this?”

Hermione turned. He was holding Ginny’s bra at arm’s length, looking perplexed.

At that moment, the portrait hole opened, and Harry stepped through.


End file.
